


Angel With a Shotgun

by ZinnyThomas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Music, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZinnyThomas/pseuds/ZinnyThomas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being in love is hard. Especially when you're an angel. And you're in love with a human. And said human is 'straight', a bizarre term that makes no sense to you. Oh well, better to have loved and not been loved back then never to have loved at all...?<br/>In which Castiel is in love with Dean and Dean is acting weird and angels, demons, and witches decide to shake things up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel With a Shotgun

Collapsing onto a bed wearily after beheading a coven of vampires is only awesome until the bed boards of said bed creak and break under you. Then everything is even more terrible than it had been before, and you are left still tired, with a healthy disrespect and hatred for the piece of shit bed. This is how Dean Winchester found himself on a late-very late-Sunday night.

"Son of a bitch." Dean grumbled into the comforter that smelled faintly of bleached vomit. He sat up and ran his hand through his hair with a sigh, carefully climbing off of the bed that was now on the floor, kicking at the pieces of shitty broken wood in frustration.

"We're saving the world from the damn apocalypse Sammy, don't ya think that our accommodations should be a little better?" he complained to his brother, joining him in the bathroom and accepting a hand towel to wash some more blood off his face.

The younger Winchester was rubbing a wet wash cloth through his hair daintily, getting rid of dried blood with a slight frown. "Why don't you send a complaint to management Dean, I'm sure the people of earth would just jump to serve the vessels of Lucifer and Michael." Sam said sarcastically, eyes flicking over to his brother before rolling back to his own reflection.

"Shut up." Dean said grouchily, pushing his brother childishly. Sam glared at the smaller hunter, and pushed back. Thus ensued the most manly slap fight that had ever occurred, the Winchesters hitting each other and trading back childish insults. It ended with Dean reaching up-it still managed to surprise him that his little brother was so much taller than him-and ruffling Sam's hair.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean smiled and headed back to his bed, laying on it gently and closing his eyes. He drifted off for a few minutes, welcoming sleep and waiting for it to overtake him, when Sam called from the kitchenette area. "What?" Dean called back wearily, sitting up a little and blinking his eyes open. "There's a note from Cas here." Sam said, coming into focus, a small card of paper in his hand.

"What's it say?" Dean asked, interested. If Cas wanted something from them he usually popped in and asked, he didn’t leave a note on the kitchen counter like a polite non-celestial being.

"He uh, wants us to see him somewhere? He says it's important, and to 'come if convenient'." Sam said, eyebrows furrowed and a small smile on his lips. Dean groaned and stuck his face in his pillow. He wanted to check it out, but he wanted to sleep more. "Tomorrow." Dean said into his pillow, laying down more comfortably and pulling the comforter up. Sam snorted and set the note down, going to his own bed. "Alright lazy whatever, sleep well." Sam said in amusement, Dean grunted in reply, sleep finally crashing over him.

+++++

But the next day, after waking up around noon, cleaning their guns, not finding a case, and spending the day resting in their hotel, Dean wanted to go to a bar.

"But _Dean_ ," Sam stressed, "Cas never asks anything of us." Sam's bitch face was on and his large frame blocked the door out of the room.

"First of all," Dean began, "If it was a big deal he'd have just come over here, and second of all, come on Sam I need to go out, I haven't gotten laid since..." Dean trailed off, looking away, eyes widening. He thought for a minute before turning to Sam with horror.

"Sam," he said, voice conveying his urgency, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder because this was a Man to Man Talk and definitely Serious Business. "I don't remember the last time I go laid. I. Need. To. Go. Out."

Sam frowned at his older brother, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. He scanned his brother's face and held his pleading gaze, holding his ground for a while before stepping away from the door and sighing.

"Yes!" Dean exclaimed, pulling on his leather jacket and twirling the Impala's keys around his finger. "You're the best Sammy!" He whooped, stepping out the door.

Sam sighed again and leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and expression both amused and disapproving. "Yeah whatever, I'll see Cas. It's probably not a big deal," Sam called out to Dean as the other hopped into the car, "But be back before 11 and don't get an STD!" he added as Dean revved the engine and pulled out of the parking space.

"Will do Sammy!" Dean yelled over the engine gleefully as he peeled out of the lot.

+++++

Sam pulled up to the address he'd found on the back of Cas' note in the blue Toyota he'd 'borrowed'. He was parked across from an old theater. The building was made of crumbling brick, looked destitute and oozed stories of dreams long lost. Sam sat in contemplation for awhile, intrigued by the curious situation. He thought about the angel who was most definitely behind those doors. Castiel had brought his brother back from hell, saved them and changed before them, going from just another douchebag of an angel to a friend. A savior. Cas was funny in his awkward way, so unknowledgeable about the ways of humans, so alienated from them, yet enraptured by them and determined to save them, fighting for freedom.

Sam had read the hastily scribbled note, but not told Dean all of it. The note was written in Castiel's usual formal speech, but sounded even more awkward and terse. But that wasn't the part that struck Sam as weird. The note was addressed only to Dean. It'd been taped to a bottle of unopened Jack Daniels in the fridge, the whiskey was a gift, and the whole gesture was alarmingly unlike Castiel. Sam's curiosity overcame his nervous anticipation, and he got out of the car, approaching the building with determination.    

The large double doors opened slowly and loudly, the hinges screeching in a way that brought many monsters and the noises they made with their last breathes to Sam's mind. The theater was set up almost like a chapel, seats from the door to the stage, purple velvet cushions faded and plush carpet now tattered. Sam looked down the aisle and to the stage, the dim light and dust in the air obscuring his vision as he searched for Cas.

"Dean?" a voice rang out. Sam spotted Castiel, perched on a stool on the stage, looking more rumpled then usual. There was a microphone on a stand set up in front of him, a CD player by his feet. The angel looked almost nervous, though Sam thought he must be mistaken, because Castiel was a lot of things, but not nervous, never nervous. Not when Castiel faced the wrath of his brother’s had he been nervous, not when he’d cut down demons and ran from home, surely he couldn't be nervous now, in an empty theater in the middle of nowhere. Sam cleared his throat, about to announce which Winchester boy he was, walking toward the stage. But Cas started talking again, the mic picking up his voice and making it carry.

"Hello Dean," His usually gruff voice was even gruffer than normal, "I followed your suggestion and tried to learn more about human culture, in my research I was drawn to music and your bizarre customs." A small hint of a smile played across the angel's face. "I know that this song isn't 'Led Zeppelin' or 'Asia', but it contains a very clear message that I felt the need to convey to you, feelings I don't think I can express in my own words. You're very important to me Dean and-"

"Cas." Sam cut the angel off softly, stopping in front of the stage. Cas looked up sharply from where he'd been examining the floor, shock and confusion flashing across his face before he schooled his expression and cleared his throat. "Sam?" He questioned, voice and face calm but eyes confused and almost childish.

"Yeah." Sam said quietly, running a hand through his hair and shifting where he stood. He continued in a louder voice. "Yeah, uh, Dean and I didn't know what it was you wanted, Dean asked me to go for him so he could go to some bar..." Now it sounded stupid, Sam realized, rather disgusted now with his actions, the hurt that flashed across Castiel's face hitting him like a punch to the stomach. Cas had come here to do something big, the angel's face showed how invested he had been in this, although Sam wasn't quite sure he knew what _this_ was. Dean didn't take this seriously at all, Sam thought, and neither did I, we completely blew it off.

Cas' face hardened with each word out of Sam's mouth, looking down at the ground. "O-oh." He said quietly, head coming back up as he exhaled, Sam could see the vulnerability and emotion being pushed back, stuffed behind a wall of composure and calm. "Yes alright that makes sense, you two are tired and resting, Dean undoubtedly has things he must attend to." Castiel said softly, sliding off the stool, hands straightening his clothes, putting everything back in place. He took the mic off of the stand and unplugged it with more force than necessary, turning it around in his hands and looking at it almost bitterly.

"This was a completely ridiculous idea anyway, a futile attempt, a pathetic dream." Cas said, almost to himself, shaking his head angrily, his fists tightly clenched.

"What was all this for Cas?" Sam asked softly.

"Nothing."

"Cas-"

"Thank you for coming in your brother's absence Sam, I apologize for any trouble this may have caused you." Cas said stiffly, giving him a breif smile, fake and polite.

He turned away from Sam, raising a hand and picking up the mic and CD player up off the ground with his angelic power, throwing them against the wall harshly, face bored and closed off. The objects broke against the wall, the sound echoing through the room.

"Do contact me if I can be of any use to you, and give your brother my regards." Castiel said, nodding at Sam before disappearing with a flutter of wings.

+++++

Sam had stood there in the theater for awhile afterward, shocked and confused by what had happened. Soon his confusion bled into anger, anger directed at himself and his brother. He drove away from the theater and whipped out his phone to call Dean as he headed to their motel.

"Sammm!" Dean's voice slurred over the phone, Sam winced. He could hear a distinctly female giggle on the other end of the line, and music somewhere farther off.

"Goddammit Dean." Sam said, glaring at the interstate in front of him.

+++++  
 

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfiction to be published on the interwebs, please tell me what you think! Thanks for reading!


End file.
